


Memories

by VelvetCurse



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Complete, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Past Rape/Non-con, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelvetCurse/pseuds/VelvetCurse
Summary: On their way to the L2 Colony, Trowa has a nightmare and his bunk mate wonders how to comfort him.
Relationships: Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner
Kudos: 6





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> A one shot story written in 2003. Posted because I'd like all of my work to be here together eventually.

Quatre snuggled deeper into the quilt and sighed in contentment. It felt good to relax his muscles after a long days work and they had been busy. If there had been no mission to prepare for they would have had time to relax, but as it was they had a mission waiting for them once they got to the L2 colony, a very important mission.

Quatre sighed and snuggled deeper still, Heero was a slave driver when it came to missions, everything having to be perfect, and there was no room for compromise. He had worked them hard all day and Quatre sometimes wondered how Duo put up with him. If Heero was that authorative in the bedroom he didn’t know how Duo could get anything that he wanted. It wasn’t Quatre’s place to speculate though, he really didn’t know and he had no right to judge.

He buried himself under the quilt until only the top of his head could be seen and closed his eyes. He could feel the knot at the back of his neck begin to loosen with the warmth and feel his shoulders relax, it wasn’t as good as a massage, he had to admit, but it certainly beat working. He listened to Trowa’s soft breathing as he slept peacefully underneath Quatre on the bottom bunk. Quatre thought of the brown haired boy, one eye covered by his fringe always gave him a mysterious look and his forest-green eyes that never revealed anything. They were such a deep colour that Quatre had found he could get lost in them if he stared too long, but sometimes he wished he could tell more of what Trowa was thinking.

Quatre heard Trowa shift underneath him and his breathing became a little more strained. Was he having a nightmare, or had he just woken up? Quatre listened a little more intently, he felt as though he were spying and scolded himself mentally, but continued to listen regardless. Trowa’s breath was now coming in soft, short sobs, muffled by something, presumably a pillow. Quatre wondered briefly if he should leave him alone or go to wake him, but he couldn’t stand to hear Trowa unhappy and so he jumped down from his bed lightly and peered in to see how Trowa was lying.

He had his head buried in the pillow, the quilt up to his waist, showing the expanse of his tanned back and shoulders, a few white scars lined the strong muscles, but apart from that the skin was perfect. His arms were up by his head, splayed at either side, his fingers twitching slightly every few seconds. Quatre realised that he was taking too much interest in Trowa’s unclothed back and tore his eyes away quickly. He reached to take hold of one of Trowa’s shoulders to shake him gently awake, but as soon as his fingers contacted skin Trowa leapt to his feet and across the room. 

He cowered in the corner, his knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them in a protective stance. His green eyes flashed darkly as the blond haired pilot tried to approach him again, and the menace held there made Quatre think twice about going within striking difference. He stayed where he was stood, large aquamarine eyes shimmering with concern, wondering what he had done which was so bad that Trowa would react to him like this.

“Trowa…” he extended his hand towards the trembling boy, “I wouldn’t hurt you, I promise, I just want to help.”

Trowa shook his head, his fringe swaying with each forceful movement and looked timidly back, “I won’t let you, not again, I’m not a child now and I won’t let you again.”

“Won’t let me what?” Quatre couldn’t understand what he was saying, “won’t let me help you? Is that what you mean? Trowa? It isn’t childish to ask for help, everyone needs help from time to time.”

Trowa looked at the light blue-green eyes staring at him from the dark, that was all he could see, just the eyes, and to his sleep-fogged mind that was all he needed to see. He recoiled tensely and fixed his own eyes to the shining ones in front of him fiercely.

“I won’t let you, I’ll fight, you can’t make me,” his surroundings confused him, he couldn’t remember where he was and why. Had he been taken somewhere?

Wait, no, that wasn’t it, he was on a shuttle heading for colony L2 with the other pilots and he had been sharing a room with Quatre. That was whom the eyes belonged to. He relaxed a little.

“Sorry,” all emotion gone from his voice, “did I wake you?”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t asleep,” Quatre sighed and smiled weakly, Trowa was back to his usual self, short, quick answers, no emotion shown, perfect soldier, just like Heero.

Quatre offered his hand. Trowa hesitated then took it reluctantly, letting Quatre pull him to his feet and lead him back to bed. Quatre could feel Trowa’s hand tremble in his own, this was no mere nightmare, this was something else, but he stayed quiet and watched as Trowa sat obediently back on the bed and put his back to the wall.

Quatre was just about to climb back up to his own bed when he turned and looked at Trowa, seeing the cast-over look on the other boys’ face he changed his mind and plopped down onto the bed next to the taller boy.

Trowa ignored him and carried on staring at the wall across the room. Quatre took hold of one of his shoulders to offer some comfort but Trowa just ignored him again. He could feel Trowa’s shoulder tremble under his touch, knew there was no way he could be hurting him, and looked over at him pleadingly. 

“Trowa, tell me what’s wrong?” he stroked his thumb down the back of Trowa’s shoulder and heard the other boy sigh.

“It doesn’t matter Quatre, thank you for worrying but I’ll be fine now, you should go back to bed, you worked hard today.”

He had noticed? Quatre had never thought that Trowa had paid him any attention. But then, Trowa always seemed to be brooding, and he must have been brooding about something or else just watching the others.

“I’ll go back to bed,” Quatre tipped his head in Trowa’s direction and put a hand to his shoulder but the brown haired pilot flinched away from him and shivered, “but not until you tell me what’s the matter, or at least go talk to one of the others.”

“It’s nothing any of you need to be burdened with,” Trowa looked up at him, forest-green eyes huge, for once, and gleaming with emotion. Quatre had never seen Trowa show any sort of emotion before, but in the dark his eyes were the only things Quatre could see, and he was afraid of getting lost in those eyes.

“I didn’t say I needed to be burdened with it,” Quatre watched Trowa’s face for a reaction, “but what if I want to be burdened with it? What if I want to help you Trowa? Won’t you let me?”

Trowa turned to him, his one visible eye gleaming in the dark, his shoulders twitched as if he was fighting with himself over something and then he sighed and dropped his head, shaking it and looking back up at Quatre. The flaxen haired boy just waited, wondering what could have made Trowa respond like this. The boy was beautiful, even scared and alone like this he had an inherent beauty that Quatre had noticed the minute he had set eyes on him. He had been attracted to Trowa’s quiet demeanour the first time he had seen him and now, whilst he looked so vulnerable, all he wanted to do was comfort him, hold him in his arms and stroke that light-brown, shining hair until the other boy was asleep and nothing could hurt him anymore.

He reached out a hand, brushing it across Trowa’s cheek, finding tears there. He put his hand to the back of Trowa’s neck, trying to guide the other boys’ head to his shoulder. He watched intently to see what Trowa’s reaction would be to this. He let Quatre take his head and place it gently on his own shoulder, let him stroke his hair until his breathing slowed and his muscles relaxed and the tears stopped.

Quatre ran one hand down Trowa’s back, this was not the time to be experimenting, one half of his mind was telling him, but when will you get another chance, the other was saying. The latter won out as his fingers skittered along Trowa’s spine and his arm encircled his waist.

Trowa stiffened for a few seconds and then relaxed back against Quatre, his body leaning further into the smaller pilot as if he wanted to be as close as possible. This wasn’t so bad, it was rather soothing and Quatre wouldn’t hurt him, he knew that.

He knew that, but his body obviously didn’t, for, when Quatre ran his hand up his back again pressing a little harder and a little more insistently he jumped from the bed, a gasp escaping his lips, and collapsed to the floor as his legs gave from under him, and started to tremble all over again. This was stupid, it was Quatre, his friend, Quatre, who wouldn’t hurt him for the world he knew, and still he could not allow himself to be touched, comforted or… or what? What had he expected Quatre to do? Nothing… what had his body expected Quatre to do?

“Trowa? Did I do something wrong Trowa?” Quatre couldn’t understand what was happening, was it that Trowa had some secret about his past that he didn’t want anyone to know but that prevented him from having any physical contact with anyone?

“I… I can’t Quatre, I’m sorry, but I can’t give you that… when I was… younger I lived with a troop of soldiers, you already knew that,” Trowa looked up at him, green eyes shimmering into aquamarine ones, “what I didn’t tell anyone was that they used to use me for their own pleasure… and now-” his voice broke as he tried to carry on. Taking a deep breath he laid his chin on his knees and steadied himself before continuing, “Now I can’t have anyone touch me without remembering, it’s not that I don’t want to, just that I can’t…”

“Oh Trowa, I didn’t mean to,” Quatre lent forward towards Trowa, then sat back again, scared of frightening him.

“It’s okay, Quatre, you didn’t know and it’s not you I’m afraid of, it’s not even contact, it’s the memories,” he hung his head and peered through lowered lids at Quatre.

“Memories can be bad, but they can’t hurt you anymore,” Quatre smiled in that cute way he had that always made Trowa feel better, “if you get over them then there is no reason why you shouldn’t be able to share your life with someone if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t know what I want,” Trowa looked up, his eyes wide and open showing his feelings for Quatre to see for the first time. He shifted so he was sat by Quatre and pulled the smaller boys’ head to rest in his lap.

Stroking Quatre’s hair away from his eyes, he smiled down at the flaxen haired pilot. For some reason he felt better when he was running his hand through the blond, silken strands. Quatre shivered under his hand and Trowa wondered vaguely if he was cold. 

Quatre could feel Trowa’s fingers skitter gently across his scalp and through his hair. He shivered under the contact and wondered if Trowa knew exactly what he was doing or if he was doing it by accident. It wasn’t that he wanted Trowa to stop, just that he didn’t want him to start something that he wasn’t ready for.

“Trowa…” aquamarine pools searched in the dark for forest-green ones, “that’s nice but do you realise what you’re doing?” he shifted his hips slightly to illustrate his point.

“I do now,” Trowa was looking towards the door, expression a little distant, “should I close the door?”

“But… but I thought…” Quatre propped himself up on one elbow and looked up at Trowa.

“I know… but it’s about time I realised that not everyone in the world is like that, if I believe that for the rest of my life then they have won, and I won’t allow that.”

Quatre stood and walked to the door. Trowa watched his every movement, the subtle sway of his effeminate hips, his fey body underneath pyjamas that hung suggestively off his shoulders. He flicked the lock on the door and turned in one fluid movement to walk back to Trowa, who was watching each feline motion with ever-increasing interest.

He hadn’t realised before just how lithe and suggestive Quatre’s body was, and without him even trying. The boy was a blond angel, and he was the one who would get to keep him, even though he really didn’t deserve that pleasure.

When he sat down, Quatre was so close that Trowa could feel his breath against his own shoulder. The warmth wafted up his neck and cheek and calmed the last of his nerves until he felt comfortable again. Soon after, Quatre’s fingers followed, stroking his shoulder and neck, then up to his cheek. Trowa wasn’t exactly sure what to do, he wasn’t a virgin – the other soldiers had seen to that – but he had never been in the slightest bit of control before and now he was lost.

He felt Quatre’s fingers tighten on the back of his neck, gently guiding his head down. Quatre’s lips touched against his own, softly and then a little more insistently. His tongue swept along Trowa’s bottom lip, requesting entry, which Trowa happily granted, deepening the kiss until their tongues fought for dominance. Trowa won out eventually and swept his tongue into Quatre’s mouth, exploring the sensitive skin there and stroking the roof of his mouth softly. Quatre sighed and tipped back on the mattress, pulling Trowa down on top of him.

Trowa pulled at his pyjama top, he wanted to be able to touch Quatre, to feel his smooth skin. His fingers fumbled with the buttons, so impatient that he couldn’t seem to open one of them. Quatre giggled and reached down, nimbly undoing every one and slipping out of the top before Trowa could react. His hands suddenly fell on bare skin and hesitated slightly.

“It’s alright,” Quatre smiled up at him, his eyes half lidded, “I won’t break, you can touch me.”

Trowa didn’t need any more encouragement; he ran his hands down Quatre’s sides, making the smaller boy shiver and a small moan escape his lips. He ground his own growing erection against Quatre’s, frowning in frustration as he felt the cloth still restricting contact. Quatre yelped, grabbing Trowa’s hips and rubbing his thumbs over the points the bones made under the skin. He watched as Trowa’s eyes closed and his head tipped back, his breath coming a little quicker, then bucked his hips, making Trowa gasp and bite back a yelp of his own.

Quatre wiggled from under him and headed to the door, unlocking it, but looking back when Trowa called to him, “Where are you going?”

“We haven’t got any l-” but Trowa cut him short, following his train of thought.

“I don’t need it,” he grimaced, “I’m not new at this, and they never used any.”

“No, but I don’t want to hurt you and they did,” Quatre looked at him a little concerned, did Trowa still think that this was going to hurt?

“You won’t, I can promise you that,” he smiled at the still hovering boy, “now come here my little angel.”

Quatre’s eyes went wide at the new pet name, then he smiled and ran back to the bed, lying on his back next to Trowa.

“You left the door open,” Trowa informed him, but didn’t give him chance to rectify the problem, neither of them really caring.

He rolled on top of the fey boy, pulling at the top of his pants whilst Quatre did the same to him. In the confusion they heard something rip, but eventually they managed to discard the offending garments, and lay in front of each other completely naked.

Trowa sucked in his breath at the sight, Quatre had his eyes half-lidded and his hands rested against his hips. He gazed back at Trowa and then sat up on the bed, taking Trowa’s shoulders and guiding him down to lie on his back.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky with passion.

Trowa nodded, his voice having failed him and placed his head back against the mattress. He felt Quatre shift over him and then his lips fell along Trowa’s chest. Trowa gasped, each small touch igniting a fire on his body as Quatre made his way down the other pilot’s body, his lips all silk and fire.

Trowa’s breath was going in sharp gasps by the time Quatre reached his hips, but he stopped breathing entirely when the fey took his erect member into his mouth and started to bob his head. A moan escaped his lips as he felt a shockwave of pleasure sweep up his body. He had never felt anything so exquisite in his life, had never even guessed that sensations like this were actually possible.

“Angel…” his voice was that deep and low he wasn’t even sure if Quatre would be able to hear him.

“Yes love?” Quatre lifted his head, his own voice deeper than usual, and skimmed his way back up Trowa’s body to look into his eyes.

“Don’t stop,” his hands grabbed at Quatre’s shoulders as he pushed him back down gently but insistently. 

Quatre smiled and took his hands away, placing them along his back and moving his own hands down. He took Trowa’s legs at the knees and pulled them up towards him, lifting Trowa’s legs to curl up either side of his body. Then he took brunette pilot’s hips in his hands and tipped him back a little and placed himself at Trowa’s entrance. Trowa groaned and shifted so he rubbed slightly against Quatre’s member. The flaxen boy gasped and pushed forward, entering Trowa and seating himself more comfortably waited for Trowa to adjust.

“What’s wrong?” Trowa lifted his head up and Quatre could see that his lips were parted and he was panting with pleasure.

“Nothing love, nothing,” Trowa had been right, he certainly wasn’t hurting him.

Quatre pushed forward, finding Trowa’s prostate by the choking-gasp he made, and picked up a rhythm. Both boys gasped and clung to each other once they reached their climax, collapsing together in a heap as they finished.

Trowa could see nothing but swirling colours in front of his eyes for some minutes afterwards. He eventually managed to control his breathing and bring it back down to its normal rhythm. As he regained his senses he became aware of a light weight on his chest. He picked his head from the bed slightly and looked down to see two aquamarine eyes looking up at him. Quatre was lying against his chest peering up at him, a half-smile playing on his lips as he watched the other pilot become aware again.

“Okay?” Quatre asked as he watched Trowa look down at him groggily.

“Yes, just perfect,” his smile took Quatre off-guard and his eyes went wide as he saw what he had never thought he would see. Trowa’s smile was not empty, it was a true smile, full off his own feelings and love, and it was directed at him.

“I love you,” Quatre mumbled, as he placed his head back down sleepily and closed his eyes.

“I love you too Angel,” Trowa replied, closing his eyes and stroking the other pilot’s flaxen hair.

That same smile played across his lips again as he drifted off to sleep, now he had a reason to live out this war and bring peace to this messed up world, and he would, but later.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Duo couldn’t understand what exactly was keeping Trowa and Quatre, but whatever it was it was stopping him from eating his breakfast, and that was just not on. Heero had said they couldn’t start until the other two joined them, and he was hungry.

He marched into the bedroom, the door being unlocked, as usual, and stormed up to Trowa’s bed to drag the brunette up, but as he reached down to take hold of Trowa he noticed that the hair showing from underneath the duvet was blond. Puzzled he reached to pull back the covers, but as he did so Quatre’s head lifted, hazy passion-filled aquamarine eyes met his violet ones and Duo noticed that Quatre’s lips were slightly swollen from kissing.

“Angel?” Trowa’s husky voice floated from under the duvet.

Quatre glanced down and then back up at Duo, “It’s alright love, its just Duo,” he smiled down at the figure Duo could not see lying under him, “you can tell Heero to start eating without us. I don’t think we will be out for a while, in fact, I’m not sure we are hungry, hey love?”

Trowa mumbled something that Duo couldn’t understand and pulled Quatre back down under the covers. 

Duo scratched his head and walked out of the room, careful to shut the door behind him. He hadn’t even known that Quatre and Trowa were like that, let alone that they had gone that far. Oh well, it wasn’t any of his concern anyway.

He walked into the kitchen and informed Heero that neither of the other pilots would be joining them for breakfast because they weren’t hungry, “So can I eat now?” he looked at Heero hopefully.

“Not hungry? Both of them? Did something happen?”

“Oh yes, I would say something did happen,” Duo told suggestively.

Heero looked at him puzzled, prussian eyes confused. Duo walked to him, setting his hands on his shoulders and leaning in to take a bruising kiss and then backing up and looking at the chocolate haired boy, “I love you koi, but sometimes you can be dense,” he smiled suggestively and wiggled his hips to illustrate his point.

“Oh!” Heero nodded and raised an eyebrow at Duo.

“Now you know what I mean?”

“Erm, maybe you better show me?” Duo looked confused then smiled knowingly.

“Oh, okay, I guess I better,” he rolled his eyes in mock exasperation and stalked towards Heero.

Grasping his shoulders he pushed him back so he was leaning against the counter and leaned down to kiss him again, his hands skittering up his back in the easy way of familiarity. At that moment a cry came from inside Trowa and Quatre’s bedroom, at which Duo giggled before making short work of removing Heero’s green tank top.

At the breakfast table Wufei mumbled something about injustice and, leaving his bowl and cup behind, stalked off to his bedroom to wait out this latest development in relative peace until the other pilots came to their senses again and got on with the mission.


End file.
